


attitude fixed

by uchiwaslut



Category: Naruto
Genre: Anal Sex, M/M, Mokuton bondage and sex?, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, bottom madara bc You Cannot Tell Me Otherwise, idk how to tag :/, madara is just cock deprived like the rest of us, might change the title later idk i just wanna upload this, no beta we die like real men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-26
Updated: 2020-05-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:08:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24383320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uchiwaslut/pseuds/uchiwaslut
Summary: madara does not do things thoughtlessly. hashirama finds out why his friend is being an ass.
Relationships: Senju Hashirama/Uchiha Madara
Comments: 5
Kudos: 174





	attitude fixed

**Author's Note:**

> whenever i write these two feelings tend to get in the way but this time i had to put my foot down. so enjoy nothing but shameless porn :)

The door clicks shut behind the last member of the council leaving. Finally alone, Hashirama turns towards Madara, who was already looking at him expectantly. Hashirama's lips are pressed into a thin line indicating his displeasure. 

“Now, was any of that necessary?” he sighs. Just like every other meeting, Madara was being unnecessarily mean. He wasn’t exactly rude but he wasn’t nice either. Everyone knew Madara for his biting tongue, and while his way of handling things wasn’t too pleasant, blatant and harsh even, he wasn’t wrong either. Nobody argued with Madara because they simply never found fault in his reasoning. Nevertheless, it just made things.. difficult. 

Madara glares at him. At least, he doesn’t try to deny it. He says, “They need to know that we have better things to deal with than stupid shit that could have easily been solved over a cup of tea. No need to give us a headache each time.”

Which _true_. The villagers tended to come to them with every little disagreement or strife that even Hashirama, with his abundant patience and understanding, found irrelevant. But still. He could never turn them down or have the heart to do so. Unlike him, Madara didn’t give a shit. So they ended up taking more time than necessary because Madara spent at least ten minutes lecturing them and threatening to throw them out the next time they came with stupid issues. Not to mention the dirty looks and off-hand remarks. Oh god. He could practically feel Madara’s hostility radiating off him the whole time, and he wasn’t even a sensor! Everyone was so uncomfortable and on edge at the table, he honestly felt sorry for the poor souls. 

“It’s just.. You’re too difficult,” Hashirama sighs once again because he doesn’t know what else to say. Then, as an afterthought, “..it’s almost like you’re doing it on purpose.”

He braces himself for Madara’s dramatics; the offended look, the _how dare you blah blah_ , but none of that comes. Instead, Madara smirks at him. A devilish thing in the dimmed lightning of the meeting room on the lowest floor of the Hokage tower. But it’s different from his usual smirks - something deeper, _darker_ lurked behind.

Hashirama knits his eyebrows, clearly confused. And then, it hits him. It _was_ on purpose. Though it wasn’t out of malice. Madara was confident in his and Hashirama’s skills to find solutions, because eventually the meeting had adjourned with all parties happy and satisfied, paying their respects to both leaders before they left. 

He was just.. provoking him. Testing his patience. To see how far he’d let Madara get away with it before he reigned him back in.

A grin finds its way on Hashirama’s lips at his impossible friend. Madara was so unpredictable and hard to read that it was impossible to know what he was thinking about or why he acted like he did. And every time Hashirama thought he was beginning to understand him, he always did something that shattered that hope and threw him off tracks. It left Hashirama more confused than ever but also very determined to solve the enigma that was Uchiha Madara. But now.. he was also curious. Something about the look Madara gave him thrilled him, there was a challenge in his eyes that Hashirama was more than ready to take on. He knows it deep in his heart that in this lifetime, or any other, he will never meet someone as nearly exciting as Madara.

Hashirama moves in a flash; his hand flies to Madara’s hair, grabs a fistful of dark locks and _yanks_. For a split second (that felt too long!) he thinks he miscalculated when Madara’s eyes widened with surprise. But it disappears as quickly as it has appeared, and Madara is once again smiling at him in a predatory way, as if his head wasn’t tilted at an uncomfortable angle, forcing him to look up at Hashirama. 

“ _Finally_ ,” he breathes, licking his lips, “you’ve kept me waiting long enough.” 

“Hm. This is what you have wanted all along?” Hashirama’s voice is unimpressed, “I must admit I’m a little disappointed.”

Madara only smirks, “Even so, I doubt you can give me what I want.”

It’s a bait and he knows it but Hashirama bites anyway. He kisses Madara hard, pulling him in by the hair. Their teeth clash and it’s terribly uncoordinated but still so fucking good. He tastes blood as Madara bites down hard on his lips, drawing a moan out of him. He has wanted to kiss Madara for the longest time but he never expected it to be this way. It’s better than anything he has imagined. 

He lets his hands roam across Madara’s body, appreciating how strong and hot he feels even through so many layers of clothes, assessing the muscles underneath. His hands dip lower, hugging his small waist closer and Madara is already so hard in his pants, unashamedly pressing against him and moaning into his mouth. Hashirama swallows every pretty noise Madara makes.

He kneads Madara’s ass roughly and relishes in the needy moans the raven lets out, hips jerking desperately as he rubs his erection against Hashirama’s. A hand slips inside his pants and past his underwear and Hashirama grabs a handful of soft flesh and runs a finger between his asscheeks. He freezes when he touches something cold nestled there. _A butt plug._

He pulls back sharply and is once again met by Madara’s smug expression at Hashirama’s shocked face. He had come prepared. He knew Hashirama would--!

A fiend is what Madara was. Always planning and always getting his way. Up until this moment, Hashirama was playing right into his hands. If he thought he was in control.. Something within Hashirama snaps; he feels possessed to take back control from Madara. Refuses to let the Uchiha control him while keeping him under the illusion that he was the one in charge. 

He all but throws Madara on the table face first, maybe a little too forcefully, and clamps a hand on the back of his neck to keep him down. Unnecessarily so. Because Madara doesn’t resist. In fact, spreads his legs wide to better accommodate the man behind him. Madara gives a breathy chuckle, turns his head to the side to meet Hashirama’s eyes, now darker with unbridled lust. Vines surge out of the floorboards and curl and twine around Madara, his arms are pulled behind his back and intricately bound. A particular vine wraps around his neck, loose enough to allow him to breathe. For now. 

“I hope you don’t mind if we do things my way,” Hashirama leans down and whispers and there’s a promise in his velvety voice that sets Madara’s nerves on fire. But he isn’t ready to admit that yet. He opens his mouth to say something, to throw another taunt at him probably but _chokes_ because one of Hashirama’s vines, the biggest and longest so far, slips past his unguarded lips and down his throat. Madara gags and blinks away the sudden tears. For once since the beginning of this crazy night, Madara looks lost and subdued. And it fills Hashirama with dark satisfaction. 

The vine is a delightful weight on his tongue and he can feel Hashirama’s chakra laced with lust flowing through it. It urges his body to move on its own and he begins to suck in earnest, hallowing his cheeks and twirling his tongue around as though he would a real cock. The Mokuton being an extension of him, Hashirama can feel every suck and lick under his skin, Madara’s tongue sending shocks of pleasure throughout his body and he palms at his cock, pretends Madara’s lips are wrapped prettily around him instead. 

He doesn’t bother to take off Madara’s clothes all the way even if he longs to feel every inch of his skin against his own, and to see him all of him flushed in the same pink as his face. Somehow, he finds he makes a better picture like this. Half dressed and spread open for him. On the same table where just a few minutes ago he was acting like the biggest shit. Besides, he trusts that this will not be the first or last time he’ll have Madara underneath him. There will be other opportunities to explore Madara’s body more thoroughly. But for now. He pulls his pants down along with his underwear, exposing Madara’s ass to the ambient air in the room which feels more heavy and charged.

He wrenches the toy out with more force than necessary, but Madara seems to like the rough treatment, moaning loudly, and he shoves two fingers inside before Madara can adjust to the empty feeling. His eyes flutter at the intrusion and he instinctively bucks into the fingers, seeking more. So greedy. The vines tighten around him in warning and Madara goes still against his will. 

His goal isn’t to prepare him. Madara was considerate enough to take care of that. He was simply too impatient for a taste, wanted to see for himself if Madara’s hole tasted as incredible as it looked. He’s wet and hot and inviting and he takes Hashirama’s fingers hungrily, sucking him in like he was meant for him. Which is true. He ghosts over Madara’s sweet spot and the Uchiha makes a high keening sound and it’s Hashirama’s cue to pull out, leaving him clenching around air. Hashirama brings his fingers and licks them under Madara’s eyes, now glowing sharingan red. Forever committing that image to memory. And he was right, Madara tasted heavenly. He decides Madara deserved a little reward and so one of his vines slides up his thighs and circles around his hole before slipping in without any resistance. Madara slams his head on the table feeling the vine slide deep, deep inside him, reaching places his own fingers could never. The vine finds his prostate and brushes against it experimentally at first and then with purpose. 

He rakes his eyes over Madara’s bound and gagged form, his pants pooling around his ankles and pretty ass in full display, being fucked by his Mokuton _in both holes_ , and Hashirama marvels at that, _if only they would see you now, Madara_. He tells him as much, right below his ear and nips at the sensitive skin there. Madara’s eyes roll to the back of his head and his body shudders violently, no doubt he was imagining it in his mind too. Maybe with more clarity than Hashirama ever could; Uchihas were visual creatures after all. 

He groans, feeling his own cock twitch in his pants -- _cannot wait to be buried inside Madara._

Hashirama makes a quick work of undoing his own pants, watching transfixed as the long and thick vine steadily slid in and out of Madara’s ass, stretching him beautifully open. He takes himself in hand and he’s so painfully hard it’s almost laughable. He strokes himself, spreading lube all over, Madara had been _very_ generous with that. He orders the vine out of Madara’s mouth who lets out a sound between relief and disappointment. But quiets down when he feels Hashirama’s tip against his entrance. His breath hitches in his throat in anticipation. 

..but nothing happens. Hashirama just continues to rub the head of his cock teasingly against Madara’s fluttering hole. Madara quickly catches on with Hashirama’s intentions, what he wants him to do, and shoots him an angry look, which Hashirama finds comical. Considering Madara’s position and the plain desperation on his flushed face. 

“Come on, I freed your mouth for a reason..” he encourages but his voice is strained. Madara wasn’t the only one affected --it’s taking all of Hashirama’s willpower not to bury himself inside Madara. It was so close yet so far away, he just needs Madara to cooperate a little.. 

Madara holds his gaze and he could see the turmoil there; he is fighting against his body and pride, torn between giving in to his desire but determined not to give Hashirama the satisfaction. But Hashirama was a patient man who is trained to ignore his needs for the greater good, and is willing to wait as long as it takes. He begins to detach himself from Madara when--

“Please,” Madara blurts out and it’s panicked and desperate because he doesn’t want Hashirama to stop touching him, wants to keep feeling his warmth at his back. He’s so achingly hard and his cock hurts where it’s pressed up between the table and himself and he feels empty and he wants Hashirama to just fill him up already. So.

“Please, Hashi, _please, please_ ,” Hashirama smiles at him and it’s warm and pleased and he pets his hair like a dog, “Very good, Madara. It seems you have manners after all.” And admittedly, he thought it would take a lot more to coax him to beg but he’s not complaining. He’s just as eager to feel Madara.

Hashirama doesn’t waste any time, thrusting inside him in one long motion and Madara cries out and squeezes hard because that feels so fucking good. Hashirama was big and long and hot and it was as if he was made for him, like his hole was made for Hashirama’s cock only. Hashirama hisses out a curse because he didn’t expect Madara to be this fucking tight, wrapping around him in the best of ways. His head spins and he has to take a second to get used to it before he starts fucking into him mercilessly. He grabs onto his hips and pulls out entirely before slamming back in. And soon Madara is reduced to a drooling mess, mouth hanging open and sobbing as Hashirama’s cock crashes against his sweet spot and he loves how tightly Hashirama is gripping him, using him as if he was an object. He loves how he can’t do anything but lie there and take it, the vines are impossibly tight and Madara distantly thinks Hashirama has lost control over them because they keep getting tighter with each violent thrust that pushes Madara closer and closer to the edge, so close to orgasm he could almost taste it and he senses Hashirama near too. 

Then Hashirama suddenly grabs his hair and forces him to straighten. He pulls Madara flush against him and the new angle has his cock reaching deeper and Madara can feel everything with an overwhelming intensity that makes him cry and scream Hashirama’s name, begging him _harder please_ and Hashirama obliges, snapping his hips with more force, pulls harder on Madara’s hair, and bites on his shoulder when he comes, his legs giving out.

The feeling of Hashirama’s spilling inside him, hot and abundant like the rest of him, is enough to push Madara over the edge too. And he comes hard and he sees stars behind his eyelids and tastes copper on his tongue. A part of him is distantly aware that he came untouched, not once did Hashirama touch his cock, and he would have been embarrassed by that but he didn’t have the mind for anything, not when Hashirama was everywhere around him, on him and inside him.

Hashirama doesn’t move for a while, lying on top of Madara and breathing heavily in his neck. Madara shudders feeling his contentment rushing through the vines still restraining him and it’s a little too much because he was very sensitive but he welcomes it. Anything Hashirama had to offer. Eventually the vines retreat and Madara realizes he’s lost feeling in his arms but that doesn’t matter because Hashirama was nuzzling in his neck and kissing him gently where there’s a fresh bite mark, “Mhm, I should have done this sooner..” 

And Madara couldn’t agree more, and he cannot wait till they did it again and again but he’ll die before he tells Hashirama that so he doesn’t bother to answer. But this time, Hashirama sees right through him and he chuckles warmly at his friend’s stubbornness. Ah, Madara. 

**Author's Note:**

> hashimada porn at 5am >>>> writing my essay


End file.
